Being A Boy
by MayaTheGreatish
Summary: The guys of Glee are missing Kurt, who has left for Dalton. All of a sudden, they realize that Kurt is, in fact, a dude! They make the obvious choice here: get Kurt to start a punk band with them! What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**My third chapter overall of the evening! I literally cannot see straight, but I wanted this up. I wanted Kurt to bro it up at some point, so that's what's happening here and throughout this fic. If you're not down with dude!Kurt, go away, because you have no soul. I own absolutely nothing, not even the computer I typed this on. Love and huggles- Maya**

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The front door slammed open. "Hudson!" Puck called. "Prepare to motherfucking die!"

Kurt abandoned his smoothie-making to poke his head out into the living room as Finn tramped down the stairs with a huge grin on his face. "Puck, I am going to kick your ass!"

"Bring. It."

On eyebrow up, Kurt asked, "What in the world is happening? Are you going to fight or what? You're both smiling like axe-murderers."

The jocks looked at each other, then at Kurt. "Halo," they said in unison, with identical "obviously" expressions. Kurt rolled his eyes and the boys stormed off into the family room, shoving at each other and laughing.

Five minutes later, Kurt's smoothie was done, and he was just about to escape to his basement when a pained cry in Finn's voice rang through the house. Hardly able to ignore it, Kurt followed the sound; what if they were fighting over a girl again? Finn may be big, but Puck could totally take him. Cautiously, he tiptoed into the family room to see Puck on his feet, crowing over a prone Finn, who was curled into the fetal position and groaning on the floor. "The hell?" Kurt asked rhetorically.

Both boys looked up at him. "Oh, hey, Kurt," Finn said coolly.

"Yeah, hey." Looking at the TV, Kurt saw that one character was dead and the other wasn't. "I assume you've killed my brother."

Nodding excitedly, Puck answered, "Damn straight."

Finn swore from the floor, then lurched to a sitting position. "I want a fuckin' rematch, dude!"

"Ooh, gauntlet thrown," Kurt observed dryly.

"Don't hate, Porcelain, just 'cause you can't play Halo."

"Who says I can't?" Two pairs or eyebrows rose skeptically. "What? I could if I wanted to." The brows rose higher, totally in sync. Kurt's eyes narrowed in determination. "Finn. Give me your controller, since you apparently suck anyway. Puckerman, show me the mechanics. Practice round."

Knowing better than to fight Kurt's Bitch Glare, both jocks scrambled to obey. Finn looked on as Puck ran Kurt through the gameplay basics, from which button did what to who was meant to be shooting at whom. Soon, Puck went quiet and watched Kurt fumble and stumble through the map, growing more confident with every step. He whipped out his iPod and stuck an earbud in his ear, and his playing got better before the jocks' eyes. The round ended, and Kurt sat back with a satisfied smirk. "Well, boys?"

"Dude," was all Finn had to say. Puck just blinked at Kurt and his score on the screen.

That smirk was turned on Finn. "Why don't you play me, brother dear?"

Finn's wide eyes slid away. "Uh, no thanks."

"Hmmmm?" Kurt cocked his head, an unfamiliar glimmer in his eyes. "You scared, Hudson?"

Puck actually fell over, and Finn promptly got defensive. "Nuh-uh!" he protested eloquently. "Alright, Hummel, let's go!"

From his position on his back on the floor, Puck wordlessly surrendered his controller to Finn. The quarterback threw himself affrontedly onto the couch next to Kurt, who just smirked at him some more. The game began, and within minutes Kurt had beaten his stepbrother soundly into the dirt. When Finn complained that he didn't like his controller, Kurt switched with him (eye-roll notwithstanding) for the next round, in which Kurt beat the crap out of him again.

When the game was over, Finn just laid down, burying his face in the couch cushions as the victor examined his nails. Puck clambered up onto the couch with them. "My go," he declared.

A few minutes later, Puck was jamming his thumbs violently into the buttons, curses hissing through his gritted teeth, while Kurt hummed along with his music beside him. Realizing that all was lost, Puck dropped his controller and scowled at Kurt. "Are you, no lie, kicking my ass to Gaga?"

"Dude," was all Finn said, but the tone was full of disapproval at such an insult.

"Not exactly," Kurt answered puck, rolling his eyes at both jocks. "Here." Graceful as always, he rose and stuck his iPod into the dock above the TV. He hit play, and a punk cover of "Bad Romance" poured from the sound system. Puck and Finn's eyes widened, and Kurt almost laughed at their expressions. First he pwns them at Halo, now he listens to dude music? When it was over, Kurt reclaimed his iPod and raised a brow. "Questions, boys?"

"Dude," Finn said again, "you're a dude."

The brow rose higher. "No, really?"

"What the ever-loving fuck?" Puck said. "That was actually beast."

"_Punk Goes Pop_, gentlemen." Kurt replaced his earbud in his ear. "What, you thought I only listened to show tunes?"

"Yes," Finn answered blankly, wincing when Puck punched him in the arm on principle.

Kurt rolled his eyes at both of them. "Well, I don't."

"Lemme see." Puck held out his hand. Kurt gave him a vaguely suspicious look, and Puck snorted in return. "C'mon, I won't hurt your baby." Hesitantly, Kurt surrendered the device, and Puck searched it hungrily, finding an impressive assortment of punk, screamo, and 90's alternative mixed in with the show tunes and Top 40's. "The hell, Hummel, since when are you cool?" Finn looked over his shoulder with awed interest.

Kurt somehow managed to snort elegantly. "Bitch, please, I am so far beyond cool."

"Apparently," Finn agreed with no small amount of incredulity.

Rolling his eyes again, Kurt freed his iPod from their clutches and pocketed it. "Anywhore, I have to go pack. Going back to school in the morning." Puck and Finn exchanged a look of regret, which Kurt ignored, heading toward his room.

When he reached the doorway, Finn stopped him, asking, "Uh, you wanna come backup when you're done and, like, play some more?"

Kurt looked over his shoulder, his perfectly manicured hand on the doorway, and considered his stepbrother and his former bully beside him. "Er, no. I should probably turn in early. Long drive tomorrow."

"Oh." The downcast eyes and disappointed looks surprised Kurt. "Then, see you at breakfast?" The hope in his eyes was confusing.

"No, I leave at dawn."

"Oh." The disappointment was back, and it was making Kurt uncomfortable. He was feeling a headache coming on.

So he escaped. "Good night, boys." As he hurried away, he heard them respond in unison, "'Night," and they sounded so forlorn. Thank Gaga he didn't have to be around _that_ nonsense often.

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**Punk Goes Pop is a real thing! Youtube it, it's awesome. My love goes out to my brother, who showed it to me. I don't own it though, and neither does he.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Extremely short chapter, here, but a chapter it is! I had to cut it off here or it would be, like, a gazillion words long. It's a necessary little bit of the story, and it's own chapter despite it's length. I don't own, or I wouldn't be doing fanfiction. I mean, come on. Love and stuff- Maya**

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"Wait. _Kurt_ had _screamo_ on his iPod?"

"Sam. He wasn't even ashamed."

Sam gazed forward, eyes wide and zoned. "Whoa."

"Shit you not, Sam-I-Am," Puck insisted, "he was straight rocking out to punk while kicking my ass at Halo."

"What. Dude." So much awe was infused into the whispered words.

Finn sighed and hung his head. "I miss him."

Puck nodded. "Yeah, who knew he was such a badass?" The other two jocks looked at him. "What? I can recognize badassness in others. Being the only BAMF in town gets lonely, dudes."

Sam sighed. "And we never recognized it until he was gone."

"And it's not like any of us have an excuse to talk to him," Finn lamented.

"Wait, you guys are brothers, aren't you?" Sam asked.

Puck looked at Finn, who suddenly found the skuzzy floor absolutely fascinating. "Uh, yeah, but we're not close or anything. Like, we're brothers, but we're not bros." His voice saddened and softened. "He doesn't want to be."

Puck lifted his brows at his former best friend. "Yeah? That your fault or his?"

Finn swallowed uneasily. "Mine," he whispered. He glanced up to be on the receiving end of two glares. "I mean, I tried to apologize, but he cut me off and said I didn't need to, that it was his fault. I thought we'd be cool after that, but he kinda won't let me get close. Like, he doesn't bitch at me or anything, but he never wants to hang or talk; he always finds something else to do super-quick."

"What, you guys have a fight?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, last year; we tried living together and, uh. And, yeah, we had a fight." The gassy-infant look was in full force. "Like I said, my fault. But even after I sang to him at our parents' wedding, he just kinda… stopped being mad, I guess, but still not happy. Distant. He won't be around me more than he has to so he doesn't upset our parents."

Sam shook his head, eyes shut in irritation. "Dude. What'd you do?"

That was one freakin' interesting floor, by Finn's estimation. "I kinda… called him a name."

Whirling on him with wide, incredulous eyes, Puck hissed, "You didn't."

"I tried to apologize! He wouldn't let me…"

Puck rubbed his face in exasperation. "And then you wouldn't nut up and defend him from Karofsky." Sam kept his eyes closed, shaking his head again in disbelief. Finn was silent. "No wonder he didn't believe we would protect him and bailed!"

"And now we've lost him," Sam added. "And the New Directions lost him to the Warblers."

Pouting mightily at the floor, Finn mumbled, "I know all that."

Puck glared at him, but Sam patted his arm consolingly. "You've got to apologize properly. Even if that doesn't bring him back to McKinley, maybe it'll at least repair your relationship with him."

Finn looked up from the floor to stare hopefully at Sam. "Really?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Fuck class. C'mon, boys, we're going on a field trip."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hrrmmm. I don't really like the end of this chapter, but that's where it had to end. Not sure about how it ended, but it works for my purposes. Marylin Monroe reference, cookies to whoever spots it! R&R, I don't own, etc. Love and naps- Maya**

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_"Kurt Hummel, please report to the main office."_

Kurt looked up as the tinny voice repeated itself. Classes had ended an hour ago, and he may or may not have been skipping Warbler rehearsal for some independent work. Alone in one of the many common rooms, he had sheet music spread carefully all over the couches, tables and floor. He wondered briefly if he was in trouble for skipping rehearsal. Whatever it was, it couldn't take too long; best bite the bullet. He looked around hesitantly before deciding to leave his mess and scurrying toward the office. It wasn't like he'd be gone long.

He opened the imposing wooden door with his usual flourish, and the receptionist smiled sunnily at him. "You rang, Mrs. Smersh?" She just nodded at something behind him. At the indication, he turned to see Finn, Puck, and Sam sitting in chairs against the wall by the door. He froze; Finn looked guilty, Puck looked vaguely smug, and Sam gave him the most sheepish of waves. This couldn't be good.

Kurt turned back woodenly to face Mrs. Smersh, who shrugged. "I take it you know them," she said. "I'm sorry, Kurt, but since classes were over, I wasn't sure where you'd be or where to send them, so I thought I'd have you pick them up. They're all signed in and everything."

Nodded slowly, he looked at the jocks again, who stared blankly back like children at the DMV. He cocked an eyebrow. "May I help you, gentlemen?"

After shuffling his feet, Finn spoke up hesitantly, "Uh, we wanted to hang."

The brow rose further. "Hang," he repeated. All three of them nodded eagerly, and Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose before turning back to the receptionist with the most winning of smiles. "Thank you ever so, Mrs. Smersh, I have it from here. Is that a new lipstick? It's fabulous."

"Oh, Kurt…" she tittered.

With another smile for her, Kurt ushered his guests out of the office. Irritation radiated from Kurt, and none of the jocks attempted speech. At length, they reached the room Kurt had temporarily appropriated. He whirled on them, arms folded over his chest, and fixed them with his Ultimate Bitch Glare, under which they all shrank visibly. "Alright, what the hell is going on?" he demanded sharply.

Some collective flinching (to be denied later) went down before Puck spoke up, "We already said we wanted to hang—"

"That is complete and utter bullshit." The normal volume and perfect diction somehow added a terrifying edge. "Now, what is going on?"

The three boys shuffled uneasily under the smaller boy's glare. "Well," Puck began hesitantly, "aren't we allowed to hang with you?"

Kurt gave each of them an assessing look before answering, "Sam is, I guess, but that doesn't tell my why now, or why at all."

Finn had a startled frown on his face. "Wait, why just Sam?"

His stepbrother stared flatly into his eyes. "He's never bullied me." Finn and Puck both examined the ornate rug guiltily. "And anyway," Kurt went on, "why are you doing this now? None of you have ever gone out of your way to spend time with me before. And this is way out of your way. What's going on?"

Puck lifted his head. "You remember last night?" Kurt rolled his eyes in answer. "Well, we saw another side of you, Finn and me, your dude side. You schooled us both in Halo while listening to punk rock and…" He shuffled his feet, looking down again. "And we liked that Kurt."

"I haven't even seen him yet," Sam added. "I mean, I like Honorary-Girl Kurt fine, but that's all I've seen." He took in Kurt's current appearance. "Well, I'm kind of seeing Dude Kurt now."

Kurt blinked at him before looking down at himself and swearing on some designers. His dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his top button undone and tie loose, and his shirt was half untucked. His hair was spiked up out of his face into complete disarray from his frustrated fingers running through it. He looked up at the jocks, all of whom were considering his accidental new look. "You will tell no one," Kurt hissed through his teeth.

Puck smirked at him. "Actually, I think it works on you. If your lips were a little swollen, you'd totally look like you just got some."

Finn choked, Sam's gaze grew more appreciative, and Kurt rolled his eyes, ignoring them all. "So, what? You came here to hang with my 'dude' side?"

Sam grinned good-naturedly. "Basically."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Kurt turned away from them to his sheet music. "Well, too bad; I don't have time to entertain you just now. I'm doing a favor for Tina."

Finn blinked. "Wait, you still talk to Tina?"

"Of course. I keep up with all my darling fruit flies. Just don't tell Rachel, she'll accuse us all of espionage."

"Fruit flies," Puck repeated, apparently dying.

Sam strode to Kurt's side to look over his shoulder. "What're you doing for her?"

"Arranging some songs for her repertoire. Some instruments need to be switched up so the band can still accompany her. I'm also arranging the backup." He grinned evilly. "Rachel will be furious at having to sing backup. You lot are in for an impressive storm-out." The jocks all shuddered.

"You arrange songs and change stuff?" Puck asked.

"Of course." Kurt looked back at him. "It was always Rachel, Mr. Schue, or I who did our arrangements." At the wide eyes, Kurt turned back to the music. "I guess no one ever said. Mr. Schue would be obvious, and Rachel didn't want it known that she was useful behind the scenes." He shrugged. "I never cared if anyone knew either way."

"Wow," Finn whispered. "So you're just, like, really super-awesome at music stuff?"

"Obviously."

The jocks all shared a regretful look that said, "And we gave him to the competition."

Sam's eyes lit up. "Hey, Kurt, why don't you sing with us? For old time's sake."

Kurt looked up in confusion at the abruptness. "I beg your pardon?"

"Hey, yeah!" Puck agreed. "One of those punk covers, so we can, like, bro it up."

Kurt stared at him. "You're serious."

"Totally. Sam and me left our guitars in the truck. We'll go get them, and you and Finn can hunt up a drum set. You play piano, right? So maybe a piano, too. C'mon, Sam." With a parting elbow to Finn's ribs, they were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm still not a Finn fan, and you can't make me one. The only time I'm down with Finn is when he's OOC, so he's OOC here, or I couldn't deal with him. I regret nothing! So. I want to hear what pairings you want, if any. I haven't quite decided. Warning: Puck is a creeper, and I love him for it. I don't own... yet. Love and coffee- Maya**

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Finn shuffled uneasily, and Kurt sighed and began gathering his sheet music, putting it all in some order Finn didn't understand. "So…" he started, "should we go find stuff?"

Kurt didn't look up. "I know where the band equipment is. When they get back, I'll take us all there, we'll do this silly song, and then I'll get on with my life."

"Oh. Okay." Heavy silence descended, broken only by the rustling of papers and the scuffing of Finn's shoes on the floor, and Finn grew more and more tense and at odds.

Sensing this, Kurt sighed and stilled his papers, looking at his ridiculous stepbrother. "What is it, Finn?" he asked long-sufferingly.

"I'm sorry!" Finn blurted. Kurt blinked at him, clearly caught off-guard, and Finn took that as his green light. "I'm sorry I called you that name. You're wrong, it was totally my fault and I'm so sorry. It's not like I ever actually told you 'no,' anyway. And then I'm sorry I didn't protect you from Karofsky and the guys. That was awful of me, as a friend and a brother, but I've never apologized." Kurt set his papers down and watched Finn, making a point of giving him his full attention, and remained silent. "No one ever makes me apologize, and when they say I don't have to, I believe them and I stop feeling bad about it. But you know what, Kurt? I don't believe you! You still keep me at a distance, and I know that's my fault and it kills me. I still feel bad about how I treated you before I actually knew you, let alone how I have now that I know you, now that you're my goddamn brother! I'm just." He seemed to lose some steam, some of his anger with himself fading with his words. "I'm sorry. I was terrible, and I never tried to make up for it."

After the most still two seconds of Finn's life, Kurt nodded slowly. "I'm proud of you, Finn. You're growing up if you felt all that, then had the stones to tell me." Finn blushed slightly at the praise. Those piercing eyes grew stern. "I already forgave you, a while ago. I wasn't sure how you were feeling about our whole… relationship, so I held off, waited for you to grow enough for me to trust you around me."

Finn wrung his hands, shifting from foot to foot under Kurt's gaze. "How'd you know I had… grown enough?"

"When you felt bad enough for hurting me that you had to apologize."

"I really am sorry."

A genuine smile appeared on Kurt's face, the first one he'd given Finn since the wedding. "I know. That's why I'm proud of you. Now, name a pop song, and I'll find a cover we could do."

When the other two boys returned, guitars in hand, Finn and Kurt were sitting side by side on one of the couches, scrolling through Kurt's iPod and arguing over something, though not angrily. Kurt looked up at their arrival and asked, straight-faced, "Are either of you screamers?"

They were both silent, Finn staring at them as earnestly as his stepbrother and being absolutely no help, before Puck said, "Well, gee, buy a girl dinner first."

"I'm flattered, Kurt," Sam mumbled, a suspicious blush on his cheeks, "but, uh—"

Kurt wrinkled his nose and waved his hand dismissively. "No, ew. I mean, can you scream?"

"Didn't know you were so interested in what I'm like in bed, Princess," Puck said coolly, flashing his trademark remove-your-pants smirk.

Finn caught on, finally. "Ew, guys! We mean, like, screamo-screaming. In _music_."

"Oh," Sam and Puck said in unison, exchanging looks of "well, what did _you _think he meant?"

Kurt made a weirdly elegant noise of disgust before pressing, "Well, can you?"

Sam and Puck looked at each other again, then shrugged simultaneously. "Never tried," said Puck.

"Me neither," Sam agreed. "Never had the avenue to try it. I mean, Glee? Not really the Land O' Rock Out With Your Cock Out."

"True shit, bro." He and Puck did that weird thing where they fist-bumped without looking at each other to confirm said fist-bump. This confused Kurt, like most things jock, but he shook it off and stood, Finn eagerly following his lead.

"You've got the avenue now," he said haughtily. "We're going to the band room, and I'll teach you how." As he swanned away, the jocks exchanged excited looks of WTF before scurrying after him. The band room turned out to be nearby, and once they were safely ensconced in the soundproof walls, Kurt surveyed his charges with authority only he had. "Alright, boys, what do we know of screamo?"

"Uh," Puck began with awed incredulity, "that you know-slash-can do it."

"And that's about it," Finn added brightly.

Kurt gave them a vaguely pitying, vaguely affectionate look, like how people looked at Brittany when they weren't trying to bang her. "That's adorable." He spent the next half hour with his iPod plugged into the speakers, teaching his boys where they needed to be breathing and how they needed to be using their vocal chords. Finn couldn't do it for his life, and Sam was pretty okay at it, but Puck was a natural. Kurt figured he had to back his Mohawk up with _some_thing other than sex.

When Kurt deemed them ready, he let Sam and Puck fight over their selection, passing his iPod back and forth between themselves, while Finn sat behind the drums and familiarized himself with them. Kurt was proud of him for taking a backseat role for once, and without a fight.

"Babe." Kurt looked up in confusion, wondering who in the world Puck could possibly be talking to, but he and Sam were looking at him. Kurt pointed to himself incredulously. Puck nodded, smirking, and said, "_Hot 'N' Cold_ good for you?"

Kurt was not going to let it die. "Babe?"

"Fine, Princess, then."

Kurt flapped his hand tiredly. "Oh, whatever. Yes, that song's great. Come over here, and I'll give you your parts."

Puck looked at Sam as they obeyed. "Did that sound kinky to just me?" Sam grinned as evilly as Kurt had ever seen him in response.

He shook his head again and gave out orders. Puck had the main screaming parts, Sam backed him up in screaming, and Finn asked Kurt to take lead vocals since he would be on drums. Kurt blinked at him, then grinned at his brother's newfound maturity. He had honestly expected to be backing up Finn like normal. He clapped his hands. "Alright boys, you know what to do."

Seamlessly, they took their places, Sam and Puck slinging electric guitars across their chests as they stood behind mics, Kurt calmly clutching his mic and stand between them. As former Glee mates, they flowed easily and naturally together in music, Finn starting up the beat and Puck stepping in with his screaming like he was born to do it. Kurt used his chest voice for once, and he could feel the pleasantly surprised looks from his… friends? Sure, whatever, friends. If that's what he wanted, he supposed he could give that.

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**Song used is Hot 'N' Cold, originally by Katy Perry, as covered by Woe, Is Me. Youtube it to see who has what part. I don't own and stuff.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I have an excuse. I'm at my best friend's house since she's home from college and we've been bro-ing SO HARD. I'm still there actually, but I had to update for fear that you darlings would, like, cry or something. So, yeah. Shoutout to SaraMatta: I don't ship Klaine, either, not since... The Incident. Klainey-ness in this fic is unlikely, but we'll see. Read, review, I don't own, mouth-running over. Love- Maya**

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Since coming to Dalton Academy, Blaine had always been cool. Rich, good-looking, and personable, he made friends very quickly in the zero-tolerance atmosphere. Wes caught him singing in his dorm one night, and suddenly he was the lead singer of the Warblers, and a god in the school. It was a huge change from his old situation in public school, and one he welcomed eagerly.

Meeting and getting to know Kurt Hummel, he saw his old self again, the one that was tired and scared and stifled in a bigoted, unsafe environment. When his earlier advice to stand up to his bullies and demons (a regret of Blaine's he had tried to soothe vicariously through Kurt) backfired incredibly, he was the first to advise Kurt away from McKinley and into the bully-free arms of Dalton. He had hoped that Kurt would be challenged here, intellectually and musically, in the ways he couldn't be in an underfunded public school, while the social stresses and challenges would be eased. So far, it seemed to be working. Kurt was safe, enjoying his classes and his Warbling.

Today, though, Kurt wasn't in rehearsal. No Warbler ever missed rehearsal unless he'd broken his leg on the way there or something, and even then he either tried to get there anyway or sent his most sincerely heartfelt regrets. Kurt had done neither, and Blaine was worried. When they took a break (Blaine was too distracted to be of use to anybody, and a useless lead is no lead at all) he went looking for his favorite transfer student; what if he'd fallen down the stairs and knocked himself unconscious, or Dalton was less of a no-harassment zone than advertised and he was being mugged, or he's spontaneously combusted, or-Blaine stopped himself. He really was no good like this.

He found himself in the common wing, near the dorms. There were a few soundproofed rooms here, filled with less classy musical equipment: more drum sets, electric guitars, and basses than pianos and violins. One of them had the door shut, like someone was actually using it. A rare occurrence, since no one wanted to be caught "rocking out" or something as uncouth. Curious, he drew nearer; this close he could hear a little though the door. It was Katy Perry, or something like it. It was angrier, harder, funnier version, with voices he didn't quite recognize. He peeked through the window in the door to see Kurt, along with some other, muscular boys he didn't recognize. Kurt's voice was deeper than he had ever heard it, and he looked good in the lead, his moves and voice directing everyone else around him.

When he shook off his dazed feeling, he wondered why Kurt painted himself into a corner with "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina." He had sung so high, but here he was singing like an actual guy. He even looked like a guy, his clothes and hair disheveled in a way that... was really working for Blaine.

The song ended, and Kurt looked behind himself to reward the other boys in the room with a grin. Blaine got ahold of himself, and decided to make his presence known. He rapped twice on the door before pushing it open.

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Kurt looked up at the knock, and colored slightly when Blaine stepped into the room. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Blaine said coolly. "Missed you in rehearsal."

Puck looked up from Kurt's iPod to see Blaine. "Rehearsal?"

Kurt smiled at the room's inhabitants. "Blaine, these are my old teammates from McKinley: Noah, Sam, and my stepbrother Finn." He pointed at each jock in turn. "Boys, this is Blaine, the Warbler's lead soloist."

Blaine nodded briefly to the visitors before asking Kurt, "Was this why you weren't at practice?"

All eyes were on Kurt, and he only scrambled a little. "Um, yeah. They came to visit, and since they're from a rival Glee club, I didn't feel comfortable bringing them to rehearsal."

Blaine nodded, understanding as ever. "Right. I've been useless today, actually."

A concerned look immediately appeared on Kurt's face. "Oh, no, are you alright?" He stepped down from the slightly raised platform that served as a stage and drew nearer to his teammate.

Blaine stifled a smug grin. "I'm fine, I was just worried about you. Rehearsal isn't the same without you around."

Kurt flushed at that, prettily as always, and Puck and Sam shot Blaine looks of great displeasure. "Well," Kurt said, trying to pull a diva face and failing, "it's not like I could've just turned them away."

Puck took it upon himself to stride up behind Kurt and slide his arms around the shorter boy's waist. "Of course you couldn't've, Princess. We're too important for that shit."

"Yeah." Sam quickly followed suit, not to be outdone, and leaned his head affectionately against Kurt's and interlaced their fingers. "We were his first, after all." Puck smirked his approval, and Finn shook his head fondly behind them. Blaine's eyebrows shot up incredulously at the display.

His face screwed up in confusion, Kurt wiggled out of the jocks' grip. "First Glee club, yes." He shot Blaine an apologetic look, who spread his hands in response.

"You were really good," Blaine told him casually. "I've never heard you sing that low. After 'Don't Cry For Me, Argentina,' I would've thought that high notes were your thing."

"They are," Kurt said, "but they're not all I can do. My control is just better on higher notes, so it's what I tend to stick to."

Blaine nodded slowly, calculatingly. "I see. Well, I thought your control was great just now."

Kurt smiled brightly. "Thanks."

"It's only true."

Puck scowled and recaptured Kurt's attention, saying, "You should swing by Glee at McKinley soon. So we can do that again, show the guys. You know how rigid Schue can get about what kinds of songs we do how, so we could all use a break. Plus everybody misses you, and it's an excuse to see you."

Before Kurt could answer, Blaine cut in, "I'm not sure that's such a great idea. After hearing Kurt just now, I'm certain the Warblers will want him to sing like that at Regionals, and they wouldn't want to just show our hand like that to the competition."

Kurt turned to him and lifted an eyebrow. "Well." The jacks all braced themselves for the ice storm, but Blaine didn't notice. "Let's start here: the New Directions have all heard me sing, in all sorts of registers. Rachel and I used to meet up at least once a week outside of glee to try and outdo each other. Even if they hadn't, Finn is captain of the New Directions, and as he was just performing with me he could easily report back to Mr. Schuester to inform him of my abilities. It would be his duty to do so, actually, and if he, for whatever reason, failed to, Sam and Noah here would do it. And finally," he folded his arms across his chest, leveling Blaine his Bitch Glare, "I'm quite certain neither you nor the Warblers get to dictate where I go or what I do."

"But, Kurt-"

Kurt turned to his boys, cutting Blaine off with, "I'd love to stop by and freak Rachel out with some screamo. Who knows, it might be good for her to branch out."

* * *

**Still don't own Punk Goes Pop, Katy Perry, Hot 'N' Cold, or Woe, Is Me. No change likely there, so stop asking.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Short chapter here. Uh... nothing further to report. Review, I don't own, over and out. Love- Maya**

* * *

For once, Kurt's posture was relaxed; he stood with his hands in his pockets, something Finn had never seen him do before, and his feet apart as Puck and Sam loaded their guitars into the back of Puck's truck. Kurt had agreed to visit McKinley that Friday, then spend the weekend at home. It was hard to convince him to make the trip two weeks in a row, not to mention miss his last half of classes, but when Puck offered to foot the gas bill and Sam volunteered all three of them as be his Sherpas on his next shopping trip, he could hardly refuse. Finn could barely wait to tell the New Directions.

"Thanks for seeing us off," he said to Kurt, who smiled at him.

"Anytime, brother mine. Besides, someone has to make sure Puckerman doesn't, like, blow up my school."

"I can't make a bomb that big," was all Puck had to say about that.

"Right." Finn blinked and gave Puck an uncertain look, then turned back to Kurt, who was trying not to laugh. "So, see you Friday?"

Kurt nodded. "Most certainly. Meet me at the office, okay? Make sure, you cannot forget."

Finn nodded, so enthusiastically that Kurt wondered if he might hurt himself. "Okay!" He hesitated for a second, then reached out and swept Kurt into a brotherly bear-hug.

Kurt's body went rigid for an instant, but then he patted Finn's back. "Alrighty, then," he said awkwardly, obviously translated to "Let go, I'm weirded out." Reading between the lines for once, Finn released him to take a half-step back and scratch sheepishly at the back of his neck, an affectionate grin still on his face.

"Hugs all around," Puck declared before hugging Kurt himself. Kurt actually yelped in surprise, and Puck had to let go of him to laugh properly. Sam shook his head at both of them before embracing an apparently-still-stunned Kurt, whose body was still stiff.

When he was released, Kurt skittered back a few steps and held his hands in front of his chest as if in defense, eyes wide. "What," he demanded, not really angry but quite confused, "is it with you lot today and all the touching?"

Puck shrugged dismissively. "We never did before," he said simply. "We're trying to make up for not properly honoring your badassness."

Kurt blinked at him, forgetting to drop his stance. "My badassness," he repeated blankly. The jocks all nodded. "So we are saying that I have badassness." More nodding. Kurt shook his head at them and stood normally, his hands returning to his pockets. "You are all weird."

Puck grinned and ruffled Kurt's hair; bitch was lucky his hair was already messed up, or he would've lost a hand. "See you Friday, Hummel." With that he strode around to the driver's side. Sam followed suit, climbing into the back seat with a parting smile.

Kurt shook his head and waved before turning away and striding back toward the school without a backward glance. Finn leaned against the passenger door and watched him go; out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other guys in the truck all twisted around to do the same. That Blaine guy was waiting on the steps of the school, and he hurried down to meet Kurt with a pleading expression on his face, talking about something. They couldn't see Kurt's face, but he reached out a hand and laid it on Blaine's shoulder, shutting him up. Kurt's hand rose and patted Blaine's cheek twice, and a huge, relieved smile appeared on Blaine's face at the action. Kurt continued on up the stairs and into the building, Blaine moving eagerly alongside him. When they were out of sight, Finn climbed into the passenger seat, his face screwed up in confusion.

"Dude," Puck intoned, turning to face forward in his seat with a dazed look in his eye, "your brother is a queen."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Finn demanded, instantly defensive.

"A compliment," Sam cut in. "As in he's, like, regal or something. He shut that dude up and calmed him down with a gesture."

"I mean, damn," Puck added. "Queen Kurt, and I'm saying it seriously."

Finn nodded his understanding. "Yeah. Wonder why he never did that at McKinley."

"He did." Sam and Finn turned to stare at Puck. "I've seen him do it with the girls in Glee. It was creepy; I don't think the girls even realized it was happening."

"Whoa," Finn said. There was really nothing else to be said.

Puck started driving. "Well," he began, "aside from that whole mind-control thing, I think this went well."

"We really need to protect him this time," Finn said earnestly. "It can't be like last time, we have to be there for him."

"Hudson," Puck growled, his tone as hard and cold as diamonds. "You have exactly no right to say that, as the only one to not protect him." Finn actually flinched, but Puck couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it.

"I think," Sam stepped in, ever the peacekeeper, "that Finn means that he has to make it up to Kurt this time, and he wants back up." Finn twisted in his seat to nod vehemently at Sam, then at Puck, who rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," Puck said. "All's I know is, if we fuck this up, I'll never forgive myself."


	7. Chapter 7

**I like this chapter. Kurt getting appreciated for once. I'm still not sure who gets him, though. Feedback, people! Also, I'm debating upping the rating. You'll see what I mean. I don't own, review or don't, yeah. Love and caffeine- Maya**

* * *

"Alright, guys," Finn announced in his leader-voice, clapping his hand on Puck's shoulder, "We're gonna go get Kurt now."

"What, I don't get to go?" complained Sam.

"Why would you?" asked Puck.

"I'm his favorite, he said so!" Sam insisted.

"Um, excuse me," Mercedes cut in, clearly not wanting to be excused, "but if anyone in this damn room is his favorite, you better believe it's me."

"I beg to differ, Mercedes," Rachel said primly. "Everyone knows that Kurt and I are extremely similar, and I am the only one who properly understands him as I have two gay dads."

Braiding Brittany's hair in the back of the room, Santana snorted. "Please. You hate each other because you divas are so similar."

"He's my dolphin," Brittany asserted quietly.

"Alright, everyone, calm down," Finn said. "Me, Puck, and Sam will go get Kurt, since we're the biggest and we can protect him since he was bullied. You guys, just wait here and don't, like, kill each other." His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he checked to see Kurt's message: _Where are you? I'm at the office._ He nodded to Puck and Sam. "C'mon, he's waiting." With that, they left their grumbling glee-mates behind.

* * *

Kurt drummed his fingers on his lap as he sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of Figgins' secretary's desk. He'd already exchanged coldly awkward greetings with the skinflint principal. "You're all checked in," the secretary told him. "You can go visit those Glee kids now."

Kurt turned his head to burn a hole in Figgins' face; the man was studiously examining budgets on his desk, but Kurt knew he could hear him. "I don't feel safe enough to do that, so I'm awaiting my escort." He turned a winning smile on the woman. "You understand, I'm sure." She smiled back sympathetically.

A breathless Finn threw open the glass door, just managing to catch it before the thing could shatter against the glass wall. "Kurt!" he all but squealed. Kurt gave an indulgent smile and stood to be swept into a bone-crushing hug. "You really came!"

Kurt patted his large stepbrother's back. "Of course I did, I said I would."

Puck punched Finn's shoulder. "Let the rest of us have a turn, Frankenteen." Finn grudgingly released Kurt so Puck could hug him, then Sam.

When he was done being passed around, Kurt straightened his collarless button-down and sighed, "I'm never going to get used to muscular men hugging me."

Sam smiled at him, only slightly lecherously. "You'd better, if you're going to New York. You'll totally run the gay bar scene, and they're all ripped."

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes. "Not even going to fight that assertion. Let's go, my hag harem misses me." He sent the secretary another smile before letting Finn get the door for him and lead him away.

In these halls, he still felt on edge. This wasn't a safe place for him, he remembered, that was why he left his girls for Dalton. Looking at the lockers, Kurt could pick out in his head which ones he'd been slammed into and how many times. Looking at the floor, he could see that some areas were still slightly sticky from past slushie facials. His arms wrapped around his own middle, and he stuck his nose as far into the air as he could manage. Puck's elbow nudged him. Kurt looked to see Puck looking at him, wordlessly offering his arm. Kurt rewarded him with a smile and took it. Sam offered his arm too, and Kurt took it, smiling as brightly at him.

Puck grinned. "There. Now you have the hottest pieces of man-ass in Lima on your arms." Kurt had to laugh, and Puck looked extremely pleased with himself.

Finn looked over his shoulder at them. "Are you guys hogging my brother again?"

"Yes," Sam answered, unrepentant, and Kurt giggled again.

Finn rolled his eyes. "Kurt, you've got to come back to McKinley. When I told everyone you were coming for a visit there was, like, panda-moaning."

Sam and Puck cracked up, and Kurt corrected gently, "Pandemonium."

"Yeah, that. I think they're fighting over who's your favorite right now. It's freaky, they miss you so much. Rachel and Mercedes don't even seem to know where they are anymore, like Brittany on Thursdays."

* * *

Mercedes rose from her seat. "Bitch, I will cut you! I am obviously Kurt's number one hag; it's practically in goddamn writing!"

"Mercedes, while I have enormous respect for your somewhat-lesser talent, I am the only one at school with any sort of experience with homosexuality. Not to mention I have the greatest knowledge of Broadway in this entire town, excepting possibly Kurt, rendering me the only person he could possibly have a challenging yet rewarding conversation with."

"Berry," Santana jumped in, "he threatens to burn whatever you're wearing at least every other day! Aretha, Britt and I are the only people in this damn school he can stand to look at since we can, you know, _dress_."

"I hope you realize that you're making the assertion that Kurt is shallow enough to base his opinions of others purely on what they decide to wear. In which case, I present Artie, who Kurt likes fine."

"Leave me out of this, woman."

"But wait," Brittany said, loud enough to be heard over the madness, "who's that in the corner?"

She was ignored. "I'm telling you," Mercedes insisted, "I am White Boy's leading lady!"

At that moment, Finn pulled open the door, holding it open for one Kurt Hummel (and escorts). "Hey, bitches," Kurt greeted coolly.

"KURT!" Kurt stepped away from Sam and Puck, an amused expression on his face as he watched to see who would reach him first.

It happened to be Mercedes through her sheer force of will. "Baby Boy! I missed you so much!" She wrapped him in a tight hug and squeezed.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her shoulders to hug back. "Oh, honey, you have no idea; I wear a uniform." They pulled back to share a shudder and a grin. Rachel stepped primly forward and cleared her throat for his attention, which he gave her, looking her up and down. "Rachel, my dear, did you dress yourself this morning?"

"Yes." She bit her lip and held her breath as she awaited his verdict; she had gotten up extra-early to pick out her outfit, just for Kurt's visit.

Her hard work was rewarded. He smiled at her and said, "Look at that, darling, you _are_ learning." She grinned like a child promised cake and launched herself into his arms.

"Alright," Tina said. "My turn." Kurt grinned at her and released Rachel to clasp Tina's hands. They proceeded to have a silent conversation, mostly consisting of looks at each other's outfits, before embracing after a few minutes.

"That was freaky," declared Puck. Tina stuck her tongue out at him over Kurt's shoulder. Quinn came forward, and she and Kurt kissed each other on both cheeks before discussing something briefly in French. Brittany wheeled Artie up, and he and Kurt performed some extremely complicated handshake.

Brittany shifted from foot to foot, whining, "Dolphin…" Kurt smiled at her, giving her his attention, and she smiled back before leaping into his arms, so he had to hold her bridal-style while she kissed his nose, making him laugh. "Do you see the girl in the corner?" she asked him quietly. "She keeps writing down the things we say." He blinked up at her.

Santana finally rose from her seat and strode casually to Kurt. "Alright, Britt-Britt, it's Sanny's turn." Brittany gave her a positively lecherous smile before clambering out of Kurt's embrace. He and Santana considered each other before donning simultaneous, identically evil grins. "Hey, bitch," she greeted.

"Hey, whore," he responded fondly. There was a beat, and then he quirked an eyebrow at her. She growled and surged forward, seizing his neck in her hands and kissing him fiercely. The room went absolutely silent as Kurt kissed her back, his fingers roughly tangling in her hair.

Brittany giggled at the display. "I like when they do this," she told no one in particular. "I get to watch."

"Y-you mean—"Sam swallowed audibly. "They do that, like, a lot?"

"Sure," Brittany answered brightly.

"O-oh," Sam said.

Puck squinted at the pair that continued to make out. "That is much hotter than it has any right to be," he stated. Finn rubbed his eyes.

Santana's lips and teeth trailed down Kurt's jaw and throat. He chuckled and murmured, "We have company, darling."

"So? We've let people watch before."

"We let Britt watch."

"And Tina." Eyes turned to Tina, who just grinned unapologetically. Pulling Santana up roughly by her hair, Kurt fused his lips with hers once more before releasing her and stepping back. She licked her lips and said with an affectionate grin, "Bitch."

He grinned back and said haughtily, "Naturally, but I prefer tease."

"Is this real life?" Puck asked.

Kurt turned to him with a treacly smile. "I could slap you and we'd find out."

Puck leered at him. "Do."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I believe we have a show to put on."

Finn blinked, but nodded. "Y-yeah. Wait—"

"Do not ask, Finnegan. You don't need to know."

Finn nodded again, a bit more surely this time, but Sam put in, "Uh, I'd kinda like to know."

Santana slug an arm casually around Kurt's neck. "Kurt's sexy."

"O-oh," Sam said.

Kurt shrugged. "She assaults me sometimes, but I'm down with it." She squeezed him. "According to her, we're just sexy people who make out sometimes. It's apparently our duty."

"Feeling really left out, guys," Puck grumbled.

Kurt rolled his eyes again and addressed the room. "I don't know if they told you already, but Finn, Puck, Sam and I have something to show you."

Rachel nodded. "Yes, something about comfort zones, Halo, and Katy Perry." The look she gave Kurt clearly said she expected a better explanation from him.

He smirked and lifted a brow at Finn. "Yes, all that relates, I suppose." His stepbrother scuffed at the floor with his worn-out sneakers. Kurt addressed the room again, rolling up his sleeves. "The New Directions can be rather pedestrian, unless you sing about sex, which simply does not happen." He gestured to his new bandmates, who eagerly sprung into action, appropriating instruments from the McKinley band. Kurt himself prowled over to a mic and stand as his boys took their places behind him. "We thought we'd give you a demonstration on how to, you know," he took the mic into his hands ans gave a predatory smile, "be cool."


	8. Chapter 8

**I am a terrible person. Or, you know, terrible updater, but that's about the same thing. This chapter really fought me, I will tell you, so many characters to keep track of, and fighting with anything is not fun when recovering from parties. But here I am, alive and stuff, with a semi-longish chapter just for you! Love to all of you for even bothering to read this! I don't own, review, and without further ado... -Love, Maya**

* * *

_There's a stranger in my bed._

_ There's a pounding in my head._

_ Bottles all over the room._

_ Some stripper's clothes are in the pool._

The New Directions watched, riveted, as Kurt sang, his voice rougher and deeper than anyone had heard in a Kurt performance. Puck stepped in with his screaming, and eyes all around went wide. Finn grinned from his place at the drums, perfectly satisfied with his background-for-once position because it meant he could watch people reacting to his little bro's awesomeness. He could see the eyes devoured the way Kurt's pianist fingers gripped the mic and stand, the way he swayed and moved with the music, wordlessly directing Finn, Sam and Puck. Finn had always had that role, silently barking orders during performances, and he found that, as much as he hated attention on others (or, you know, whatever), he liked Kurt behind the wheel.

_Last Friday night!_

Kurt stepped back from the mic as the song ended, his eyes closed and his breath a little heavy, as everyone stared. There was silence as he opened his eyes and took in his stunned audience. He grinned at them. "Well?"

Another beat of silence passed before Santana rose and launched herself at Kurt, wrapping her legs around his waist and shoving her tongue down his throat as her fingers tangled in his hair.

After a little more silence, Rachel cleared her throat and got primly to her feet, brushing off her skirt. "Well, I think what Santana means is that this was wonderful, not to mention, erm, surprising. Although, I really don't think that this sort of music is appropriate for—"

Puck scowled and interrupted. "How come only Kurt gets some out of this?"

"Because dolphins are adorable," Brittany explained patiently. "And then Kurtie's sexy."

"Is that unsolicited music I hear?" Mr. Schuester breezed into the room. "I love you guys' openness of expression, I think it really shows—" He stopped short at the sight of Santana literally all over Kurt. "… Uh. H-hi, uh, Kurt." He looked around the room, "WTF?" written perfectly legibly all over his face. All he got were shrugs.

Kurt disentangled himself from Santana to turn to his former teacher. "Hello, Mr. Schuester," he greeted with a polite smile.

Schue nodded slowly, before shaking his head in dismissal of the whole spectacle. He came forward to clap Kurt on the back with a warm smile. "What're you doing back at McKinley? You should've called, I would've walked you from the office."

"We had that covered, Mr. Schue," Finn put in.

"Oh?" Mr. Schuester looked to Kurt with a raised brow.

Kurt nodded. "They did very well. It was part our agreement on my visit, anyway."

"We would've protected you anyway," Puck told him, throwing an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

Mr. Schuester nodded slowly again, clearly not understanding. "Right. So, what was that music?"

"Screamo," Sam answered with a grin. "Kurt turned us on to it."

More slow nodding. "I-I see…"

"Mm." Kurt looked him up and down, stroking his chin. "Yes. Boys, I think another performance is in order."

"Lemme go change my panties," Santana said calmly. Mr. Schue blinked at her.

"Darling, behave. What're we doing, boys?"

"Can we do _Toxic_?" Sam asked eagerly as they took their places, Mr. Schuester looking on uncertainly.

Rachel's eyes went wide. "Oh, no-no-no, our Glee Club has a very bad history with Britney, that song in particular, and—"

"And that's why we're doing it," Kurt cut her off with a grin. "Hit it."

Mr. Schue sat down in absolute befuddlement as the intro began, and his eyes went wide as Kurt began to sing, and wider when Puck started in with the screaming. He tore his eyes from the boys performing to look at his students. Santana had her legs crossed and a shaky smirk on her face, Brittany had an unsettling light in her eyes (she also kept glancing at the corner… weird.), Rachel had her legs crossed as well and a grudgingly impressed look on her face, Mercedes, Quinn, and Tina were beaming with pride, Artie was drumming along on his lap and smiling, and Mike looked extremely left out.

The boys finished the song, and there was uproarious applause. Mr. Schue clapped slowly, uncertainly, as he stood to give his verdict. "Guys, that was… this was Kurt's idea?"

Kurt snorted. "Not exactly. I'm the only one who likes or knows screamo; they just caught me listening to it."

"O-oh…" Schue said.

"My boys here—" they all beamed at being referred to as such, "—came all the way up to Dalton wanting to try performing some with me, in an effort to get to know my 'dude side.' So after we tried it, they wanted to show the New Directions. And here I am."

"I see…" He so did not see, but no one was about to point that out when the poor man was already so off-balance. "Well, it was great! Uh, I'm still not sure exactly what happened, but it sure was interesting. Ah, not really Regionals material or anything, but—"

Puck snorted. "Please, Mr. Schue. This wasn't exactly a submission for your consideration." There was blinking around the room at his use of multisyllabic words. "Kurt's in a rival Glee Club anyway, why would he perform a song for us to use to compete against him?" Kurt smiled proudly at him, and Puck somehow managed to relax his posture and stand a little taller at the same time. "Nah, this was entirely for rocking-out purposes." With that, he and Finn fist-bumped decisively.

"R-rocking out?" Oh, hi, Rachel. "Excuse me, 'rocking out'?" She used actual finger quotes, and Kurt made no attempt to fight his eye-roll. "No, no. no, we do not 'rock out' in Glee Club."

Sam rested his forearm on Kurt's shoulder and leaned against him while Kurt crossed his arms and looked at anything but Rachel so he wouldn't slap her. "Actually," Sam drawled, "I kinda signed up for some rocking out when I got here, so…"

"Absolutely not," Rachel insisted. "No, we must prepare for competition, and as these sorts of—of _things_ simply aren't appropriate for show choir competitions, we have no time for them."

Kurt gave her the most disappointed look he could manage. "And this is why you're not officially counted among my fruit flies." Rachel stared at him with wide eyes, clearly devastated, while Mercedes allowed herself a satisfied smirk. "You need to loosen up, have some fun! Not all music has to be about Glee or competing or performing. I mean, honey, you are aware that music is fun, right?" She just blinked at him, and everyone in the room wondered if she was actually still hearing.

"Ohhhhkay," Finn intervened, jumping up from behind the drums and taking still-stunned Rachel by the shoulders and leading her back to her seat. "Maybe that's enough mind-blowing for today."

"Perhaps." Kurt checked his watch. "I should be going, anyway. I haven't seen our parents yet, and my stuff's all still in my car."

Mercedes charged down from her seat, wrapping Kurt in a bone-crushing hug. "You're leaving already?"

He rubbed her back and told her, "I'll be home all weekend, you can come see me." He addressed the room: "That goes for all of you." There was squealing and everyone came down and said their goodbyes. Many air kisses were exchanged, and Kurt had some feathers to smooth with Mike. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Puck whispering something in Sam's ear that had them both grinning like mischievous children.

To the choruses of "bye, Kurt!" he attempted his escape, but before he was through the door, two mismatched hands on his shoulders stopped him. He looked up to see Puck and Sam smiling down at him. "Boys," he said, trying not to gulp. The smiles got wider and as one they leaned down and kissed his cheeks. Kurt knew his eyes must be comically wide and his face red, so he did what anyone would do: he ran, all the way to his Navigator, and did not obey traffic laws, since those are for the not-freaked-out.

* * *

**That, there. That's me being indecisive. Input, people! Because, I assure you, I have no idea where I'm going with this. Songs used are: Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.), originally by Katy Perry, as covered by Woe, Is Me; Toxic, originally by Britney Spears, as covered by A Static Lullaby. I own none of the above.**


	9. Chapter 9

**So this chapter is a bit filler-ish. As I said last chapter, I'm being indecisive, and apparently I was unclear, too. Hence, clarification. And more indecisiveness, please don't hate me. Review, I own nothing, so on and so forth. Love and piracy- Maya**

* * *

With his fingers wrapped tightly around the Navigator's steering wheel, Kurt gradually got a hold of himself. He was, by far, not the most experienced boy from Lima to Westerville. Everyone knew that. This, therefore, was new. Not only had one extremely hunky boy kissed him on the cheek, but another equally-hunky boy had also kissed him on the cheek. At the _same damn time_. With no preamble, if Kurt may add. Kurt asks you.

He finally managed to notice the stoplight and hit the brakes, taking deep, cleansing breaths. Okay, so this was not a bad thing. Two hot guys kissed him. This was positive. Right? Right. Yes, so no need to freak out. He pulled into his driveway and pulled the key from the ignition, then sat there with a blank expression. No there was need to freak out. _Why _would Sam and Puck kiss him? At the same time? After conspiring to do it at the same time? Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed caffeine. He made his uncharacteristically ungainly way into his house to his kitchen, starting a pot of coffee and rubbing his face.

"Kurt?" He looked up to see his stepmother, Carole, in the doorway.

He mustered a smile. "Hey, Carole."

She rushed forward and enveloped him in one of her signature über-maternal hugs. "Welcome home, sweetheart! We missed you so much."

He hugged back. "Thanks, I missed you too. How are things? Is Dad eating right?"

She pulled back to give him a fondly indulgent smile. "Kurt, you worry entirely too much."

He offered her a self-deprecating smile. "It's a habit."

She petted his head, minding his coiffure, and told him, "I've been very careful of Burt's food, and I pack his lunch for him every day."

He grinned at her. "I knew I could trust you."

Carole gave his shoulder a squeeze before going to the fridge for some creamer. "Coffee already?"

He sighed. "Long drive." He paused, pursing his lips as he got two mugs from the cupboard. "And boys are weird."

She whirled away from the fridge, her eyes positively alight. "_Really?_"

Kurt winced and poured them both some of the awesome. "Nothing like that, the jock variety is just strange."

She sat at the kitchen table and gestured to the chair across from herself. "Do tell."

He hesitated, then sank abruptly into the seat, both of them simultaneously leaning toward each other conspiratorially. "Okay, well. You know how Finn, Sam and Puck all came to visit me at Dalton?" She nodded seriously. "Well, Puck started calling me babe and neither of them is respecting my me-space, but in this kinda nice way that's, like, weirdly flirty."

Carole gasped. "Oh my gosh, they're flirting with you?"

"I know! I couldn't even believe it until today."

Her eyes widened as she read between the lines. "And what happened today?" They exchanged a look, then both craned their necks in search of eavesdroppers before leaning back in.

"They," he paused for dramatic effect, "_kissed_ me."

Carole drew back with an even larger gasp than the one before. "No," she whispered in awe.

"Yes! And at the same time!"

She rested her elbows on the table and took a sip of coffee. "Well, what are you going to do?'

"What about?"

She gave him a Look. "Kurt, sweetie, two attractive young men from the football team are coming on to you." Kurt gave an unintelligible grunt and gulped down some coffee. "Are you going to give them the set-down, encourage it, pick one, what?"

Kurt choked on his drink. Choking on hot liquid is not fun. "_Pick_ one?" he spluttered.

"Yes, dear. Or could this be a polyamorous relationship? Because I know Noah, and he's never been the sharing type—"

"Oh, for—Carole, really!"

"I'm just saying, sweetie. I don't know that Evans boy very well, but I will tell you that at this age boys tend to be more possessive."

Kurt blinked at her. "I'm uncomfortable."

"That's nice, dear. Anyway, I'm sure Noah wouldn't be the greatest at long-distance; Westerville is over three hours away, after all. But then, he was always such a determined boy. Whenever he set his mind to something, he'd go through hell or high water to get it done."

Kurt lifted a brow. "Are you rooting for Puck in all this, Mother dear?"

She beamed at being called "mother." "Well, now, I'm not so sure about that. You boys' shared history is hardly sterling."

He leaned forward again, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. "Indeed. There was that whole Lawn Furniture Incident. Did you hear about that?"

She flapped a hand. "Oh, honey, it was the talk of the town for weeks."

"See? His record is beyond spotty."

"That Sam is nice, though; such a sweet boy, and so polite!"

"He is very boy-next-door, yes, and that is appealing." Kurt pursed his lips, drumming his perfectly manicured nails on the table.

Carole smiled and patted his hand, stilling it. "There are worse problems to have, honey." He cracked up at the accuracy, and she sipped her coffee to cover her satisfied smirk.

"Don't Stop Believin'" blared from Kurt's phone, and he quickly brought it to his ear. "Yes, Finn?"

_"Oh, hey Kurt. What's for dinner?"_

"Not sure. Carole, what were you thinking for dinner?"

"I hadn't thought about it yet."

"Did you hear that, Finn?"

_"Yeah. Puck, Sam and me just wanted to know."_

Kurt met Carole's eyes, which were as wide as his own. "Why do Puck and Sam want to know what we're having for dinner?" he asked uncertainly.

_"Oh, they're coming over."_

Kurt stared at his stepmother, who stared back. "Ah."

_"So, yeah, see you when we get there,"_ Finn said cheerfully before hanging up.

Kurt let the phone slip from his fingers and fall into his lap, then knocked back the rest of his coffee. Carole patted his hand and said gently, "I'll go make you some more."


	10. Chapter 10

**So. Again, I am a terrible person. But this fic is not abandoned! I just got distracted by my other one, Discretion, which is moving pretty fast an none of the characters are listening to me. But, Being A Boy lives on, and I have finally made the call! So, read, review, I don't own. -Love, Maya**

* * *

Finn hung up the phone, tucking it away in his pocket and looking at his teammates. "So, guys."

Puck and Sam looked up from the silent conversation they were having. "Yeah?" Puck answered.

Finn crossed his arms. "What the hell is going on?"

"Aw, shit," Puck sighed.

Sam patted his back, rubbing tiny, almost-too-intimate circles. "Don't worry; we knew this would happen."

When Puck leaned into the touch, Finn gave up staring wide-eyed at them and demanded, "What the fuck, guys? You've been acting, like, super weird. Like, almost… _cuddly._"

Puck and Sam looked at each other again. "Do you wanna tell him?" Sam asked gently.

"No," Puck answered as quietly, "you're better at all that 'expressing' shit."

Finn was six kinds of lost. "What is happening?"

Sam sighed and turned back to Finn. "The thing is, we both like for Kurt."

Finn shrugged. "Well, yeah, everybody likes Kurt. He's the best gay stepbrother I've ever had."

Puck rolled his eyes. "As in, Finnessa, we both want to bang Kurt." Sam actually facepalmed.

"… What."

Puck shrugged. "Kurt's one hot princess."

"What." Finn shook his head, as if to remove the stun of all this. "Wait, what are you even talking about? What, are you guys gay now?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "What, Finn, you think the whole world's either gay or straight?"

Finn blinked. "B-but… but you're both straight! Puck, you're the straightest guy I know and Sam, you told Quinn that you were totally straight!"

"No, I said I wasn't gay. And I'm not; I'm bisexual."

Finn shook his head again. "What? But, but… we share a locker room!"

Sam snorted. "Jocks aren't my type, and we've all got the same equipment."

Finn blinked a few times, then rounded on Puck. "But! But Puck!"

Puck smirked a little; Finn was too funny sometimes. "Kurt's my exception, apparently. He's the only guy I've ever had the hots for. Although, if Kurt asked me to, I'd totally make out with Sam." Sam rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling now.

"What the hell do you mean, "exception'?"

Puck seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "Well, Kurt once told me he would totally bang and-or marry Kate Middleton or Lady Gaga, since he's apparently, and I quote, 'irresponsibly, irrevocably in love' with both of them. Me, I've got one dude I would bang and-or marry, and that would be Kurt."

Finn blinked some more. "So, lemme get this straight." Puck attempted to stifle his laughter, but it came out anyway as a snort, and Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You guys—who, as far as anyone knows, are straight—are into my stepbrother?" They both nodded, and Finn exhaled tiredly. "O-okay… so, I'm gonna just move past that, since I _so_ don't get it, and work on the next thing: you're both into Kurt?" More nodding. "But… but you're not killing each other even a little bit."

Puck shrugged. "That's pretty simple: we're going to let Kurt choose. If he doesn't want to choose between us, we'll just both date him, since we're bros and sharing is caring." He said the last part like he was reciting it from an earlier lecture, Sam nodding proudly at his side.

Finn started shaking his head. "This is—I don't—I can't—this—" He stopped and put up his hands in surrender. "You know what? _Fine_, because I have got _absolutely nothing_! But if either of you hurt my little brother, I'll, like, rip your balls off or something." He blinked at them, his brow scrunching. "Did I do that right?"

Sam nodded as seriously as he could manage under the influence of Finn's derpiness. "Yes, Finn, you did a very good job," he soothed. "We promise to take great care of Kurt."

Puck gave Sam his signature Smirk o' Sexy. "Hells yes, we will."

"Tease."

"Oh my Cheesus, stop it."

* * *

The doorbell rang, and Kurt exhaled at last. He ran to the door and threw it open, finding Tina and Santana on his doorstep, carefully not looking at each other. "Darlings," he cooed, "so glad you could make it."

Tina stepped forward first, exchanging air kisses with Kurt. "Hey. So, that song's done already? How come you had to give it to me now?"

Kurt gave a nervous laugh that he hoped came out as dismissive. "Oh, no reason. Wanted to give it to you before I forgot, I suppose. Also, I wanted to hear how it came out; Rachel should be on her way, but she said something about warm-ups, so I'm expecting her next week-ish."

Santana rolled her eyes and firmly kissed Kurt's cheek before following Tina into the house. "The Hobbitess probably just wants to make an entrance, like some Jewish, less-hot you."

Kurt pursed his lips as he shut the door and followed his girls down to his room. "I'm not sure if I should accept that compliment."

"Then don't." She spun and sat on the edge of Kurt's bed, crossing her legs with a flourish. "Now what's the real reason we had to be here?"

Kurt chuckled. "Clever girl. Well, Finn has company coming, and I'd like to avoid them."

Tina looked seriously at him from his couch. "Are we castrating people? I should have brought my things." Santana nodded, apparently also having things.

"No, no castrating please, I just—I don't know how to deal with this."

"Aw, shit." Santana opened her arms and wiggled her fingers. "Bring it in, Baby Gay, and let Auntie Tana fix it."

Kurt let Tina drag him by the arm into Santana's embrace. He ended up with his legs in Tina's lap and his head on Santana's inflated chest and elected not to comment on this, on account of girls are comfy. "Boys are dumb," he said childishly.

Tina _aww_'ed sympathetically, and Santana nodded sagely, stroking his fabulously tousled hair; lucky for her, he was too distraught to protest. "I know, baby," she cooed, "tell us all about it."

He complied, if a little reluctantly, and when he was done relating his tale of woe (not really—I mean, _abs_), there was a moment of silence until Tina said calmly, "So there will be castrating."

"Actually," Santana disagreed, "Kurt here might need those, so maybe don't remove them."

Kurt blinked up at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"Honey, think about it. Two extremely sexy and—this I can attest to—skilled guys are into you."

Tina's eyes lit up. "Hey, yes! Maybe you'll finally get some, Kurt!"

Kurt blinked at Tina now. "I'm pretty sure that's not what's happening here."

"As if you'd know," Santana snorted. "I always did sense some overcompensation from both of them, especially Puck. That 'hawk was hiding something, I knew it. And Sam—again, we need look no further than the hair."

"Do you know, I thought so too—no, wait," Kurt cut himself off. "Wait, I don't believe this. This cannot be happening, at all."

Tina petted his skinny-jean-clad leg soothingly. "Just let it happen, sweetie. You're pretty much the only one of us who doesn't at least periodically get some. You know, I was gonna get Mike to make out with you."

Kurt stared at her. "What."

"Yeah, I wanted you to experience a good make out session." Her lips curved into a lecherous smile as she added, "And I wanted to watch."

Santana cast her an appreciative smirk. "I always did like you."

"Okay, pretty sure we're off-topic at this point," Kurt interceded, thoroughly alarmed. "The point is, this must be a trick."

"Bitch, please." Santana waved a dismissive hand. "Those two have both been bitching about you being gone. Like, nonstop. Like, I actually stuck my fingers in my ears."

"It's worse when they're together," Tina put in, "especially this past week, since they got back from visiting you. Now, they bitch even more apart, and once they get together, they get all conspiratorial and whisper to each other in between bitching."

"Plotting my downfall, no doubt," Kurt muttered.

"Or how to get into your pants. Look, Porcelain, just let the sexy happen. At least now it's happening to you, right?"

Before Kurt could answer, the front door slammed open.

PKSPKSPKS

Puck sauntered past Finn into the house. "Well, gents, I've got tight, expensive pants to get into, so…"

Finn went pale. "Yeah, well, I have to throw up now, so…" With that, he all but ran away into his room, slamming the door behind himself.

Sam gave Puck a halfhearted frown. "You didn't need to damage his brain like that."

"Please. His brain was damaged long before I got here."

"That's my point; don't make it worse."

Puck flapped a hand at him. "Yeah, yeah, Kurt's room is this way. Have you seen it? He gets the whole basement." He led Sam to Kurt's door, at which he did not bother knocking.

At the bottom of the stairs, they were greeted by the sight of Kurt draped over Tina and Santana, both of whom stared at them speculatively. Kurt himself lifted his head to give the jocks a bored look. "What, no one sets up appointments anymore?"

Sam chuckled, "Not really. Sorry, I lost your secretary's number. Nice room, though." Kurt inclined his head in acknowledgement of the compliment.

Puck cleared his throat. "Uh, Kurt. Could we talk to you, alone, for a minute?"

Still ridiculously nonchalant, Kurt reached up and twined a lock of Santana's hair around his perfectly-manicured finger. "Anything you have to say can be said in front of my girls." Both girls snuggled almost imperceptibly closer.

Puck shrugged. "Alright. Kurt, we both want to bang you."

While Kurt choked on absolutely nothing, Santana grabbed Tina's wrist. "Come on, Asian, I wanted to show you a thing. A thing that's upstairs."

As she was dragged away, Tina protested, "But I wanted to watch!" but they were up the stairs with the door shut behind them before she could wiggle out of Santana's grip.

PKSPKSPKS

**More soon (theoretically)! Also, why do the page breaks keep bitching me out?**


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